


WHAT HAPPENS IN VENICE STAYS IN VENICE

by Starlightdawn



Category: Ghost Adventures (TV)
Genre: Multi, Scary, Sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6075747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlightdawn/pseuds/Starlightdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zak attempts to recuperate after Poveglia, but it doesn't quite work out like he planned.</p><p>A bit scary, sexy and contains something I haven't attempted before.....but there's always a first time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A CHANCE MEETING IN A GRAVEYARD.

**Author's Note:**

> This is fictional.  
> I don't know any of the GAC, I just like writing this stuff about interesting characters.....

A CHANCE MEETING IN A GRAVEYARD

The hot day was over at last. Zak, fresh from his room, had slept most of the afternoon, and now was heading into the village to sample the entertainments of the evening. The rest of the crew had flown home, and he had been left, unusually alone, with the vague intention of tracking down another haunted location. He felt he needed to recharge his batteries; long nights on lockdowns had taken their toll, and he hadn’t recovered completely from the chest infection he had developed after Poveglia. So, with the aim of taking things steady, not something he normally enjoyed, he fully intended to walk around, have a nice meal, maybe chat to a few of the locals, and have another early night.

He crossed one of the many ornate bridges, pausing to glance at the tourists still milling around, automatically pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes, despite the dark glasses covering most of his face. The last thing he wanted was to be recognised, although it was unlikely here in Venice. He wandered off the main street, and meandered around, eventually finding a splendid old church, one of many, tucked away from the tourist area. Walking to the gate, he took the path through the time worn gravestones, the slanting sunlight illuminating the old carved headstones, lighting up the mosses and occasional wild flowers with an almost neon glow. Smiling to himself, as he enjoyed graveyards, he wandered along, occasionally snapping a picture of anything which caught his eye.

As he rounded the stone buttress to the rear of the church, he noticed a marble mausoleum, larger than the other edifices in the grounds, casting a long shadow on the roughly kept grass. He stepped towards it, curiously, and became aware of voices, softly conversing, seemingly floating up from the other side of the monument. He was intrigued, the voices, a male and a female, seemed to be having a conversation with another voice, and Zak, with his long experience in the paranormal, immediately recognised the staccato buzz of a spirit box. He hesitated, after all it was a private conversation, but the amount of chatter coming from the box was incredible. In all the time he’d investigated, he’d never heard anything like it. He took a few steps further, until he was standing in the shadow, close enough to hear what was being said.

“So where do we go now? Back to England? America? Breeze hates it in New York, and I don’t want to stay there any longer…I need something new…”

“States are no good for you…..here is better……”

“Grandpapa, why don’t you come with us….why stay here….we miss you so much…”

“You know why, Breeze, when I chose to die…..Can’t come back now…..not even for you……”

Zak leaned back against the worn marble, pushing his hat up and rubbing his face. He heard a man, youngish he guessed, an American accent with a faint European inflection. The woman’s voice was soft and musical, her English charming, but also accented slightly. The voice from the spirit box sounded to Zak’s ear, almost like Marlon Brando playing the Godfather, making Zak smile slightly, more intrigued by the Spirit box session than the living people at the other side of the tomb. He sensed the session was coming to a close, a spate of Italian goodbyes followed, despite all the preceding conversation being in English.

Zak couldn’t wait, he straightened up, and walked purposefully around the marble edifice, and came to standstill, as the young couple looked up, both staring back at him intently, more curious than perturbed. The man stood first, his eyes checking out the tall stranger who had almost walked into them. Zak took the initiative, holding out his hand.

“Hi. I’m Zak. I couldn’t help but notice how good you are with the spirit box….do you do many sessions like that? Man, it was awesome…..”

“Hi. I’m Cesare, and this is my cousin, Gabriella Breeze.” That voice, smooth and languid as the evening.

Gabriella Breeze stood, surprisingly almost as tall as the two men, and ceremoniously held her hand out to Zak.

“Hi. Call me Bree…..everyone else does.”

Zak was distracted from his question by how much alike the pair were. He could have easily mistaken them for brother and sister, both were equally good looking, high arched eyebrows, expressive eyes, and full sensuous lips. Cesare had dark hair, curling over his collar, his eyes the colour of amber; Bree was fair, her long strawberry blonde hair curled and tangled around in lace and ribbons, and her eyes a very striking hazel green. They were both pale skinned with the smooth expensive looks that only the very rich seemed to achieve. 

Cesare jumped in to fill the awkward silence….”We only just got it…we were supposed to be on our way to this stupid party that Bree wants to go to...” he glanced over at her with a look of irritation, but couldn’t keep it going, and smiled at her indulgently. “We were rummaging in the street market, and bought it out of curiosity…Bree wanted to bring it here and speak to Granpapa.”

“And he spoke to us!” Bree chimed in, smiling at Zak, innocently showing white teeth and dimples.

“So that’s the first time you have used a spirit box? ….I’m impressed.” Zak couldn’t help but warm to the pair, curiosity overpowering his natural reticence. “Are you interested in the paranormal, or was it just your grandad you wanted to hear from?”

Again, Cesare took the lead, pushing his long wavy hair back from his eyes as he spoke.

“Nah, not as a rule….I like the old places where spirits hang out, and there’s loads of them here, but I don’t go looking for them. I’d rather paint or photograph the places they haunt! He smiled that enchanting smile again, and Zak had a fleeting attack of insecurity, as Cesare’s incredibly handsome features registered in his mind.

Bree spoke, noticing the first slim threads of connection between Cesare and Zak;

“I like meeting spirits. I always talk to the one in Nonna’s attic, and the little girl who wanders around in the courtyard outside, they like to be heard….” Her low musical tones trailed off, and she looked at Zak, her knowing gaze taking him by surprise, dispelling his impression of her as little more than a child.

Zak felt a little wrong footed, this pair somehow overawed him, despite nothing happening to make him feel that. They were good looking, confident, and he felt sure there was a relationship between the two which went deeper than usually found in cousins. He glanced down at the floor, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips, in preparation to say his goodbye and move on.

It was Breeze, recognising his nervousness, who appeared at his side, and before he knew what was happening, grasped him by the elbow. Her grip determined, making Zak feel a little fluttery at the closeness of her. She looked up into his eyes, and smiled the particular smile a woman uses on a man she particularly likes. Her head leaned in to his shoulder, and he could smell the deep dark rose and incense smell of her perfume, the fragrance an older woman might use, not a slim girlish creature wearing pale cream lace.

She spoke, her voice honey toned and persuasive, 

“Why not come with us? You’ll love the venue, it’s really spooky…..We’d love to hang out with you Zak…mmmm?”

“Yeah…come with us man…..I get sick of Bree, I could really do with some interesting company, for a change….” Cesare smiled wickedly, meeting Zak’s eyes, then glancing away quickly. Bree was still staring up at Zak, seemingly completely unperturbed by her cousin’s words. Cesare leaned back to pick up his battered leather jacket from the ground, affording Zak a glance of the dark ink tattooed over the younger man’s inner arm. 

“OK. Sounds like fun….will I be ok to film some of it d’ya think?”

Cesare smiled, nodding his head indulgently.


	2. Time to Party

The twilight deepened, and Zak, his left elbow linked with Bree’s, wandered along, increasingly fascinated by the tall buildings, looming together, almost touching overhead. Cesare, on Zak’s right, occasionally bumped shoulders companionably, as they made their way along the narrow streets, passing the occasional stall vending a variety of foods with appetising smells. Cesare seemed happy to act as tour guide, drawing Zak in to the fascinating history of the place, pointing out the hidden symbolism in the architecture, till Zak’s mind was reeling with the treasure house of knowledge. 

Eventually they approached a worn stone staircase, set back slightly from the street, leading to a wooden door lit on either side by large iron lanterns. Cesare mounted the stairs, his movements smooth and fluid like a dancer, once again drawing envy and admiration in Zak’s quiet stare. Bree followed, imperceptibly tugging on Zak’s elbow, until all three of them were standing in a cavernous hallway.   
Chequerboard tiling, black and white, lent an odd perspective, as the tiles seemed to spiral around, rather than fill the space in the normal rectangular manner. Long dark tapestries hung from the walls, and a dusty crystal chandelier splattered light randomly over the space below it. Zak was thrilled by the gothic mysticism of the place.

“Hey, this place is awesome, do you guy’s live here?” Zak’s voice rose in curiosity, as his eyes swivelled around, taking in the curved staircase, and the doors leading off from both sides of the massive hallway.

“Not all the time, Cesare travels a lot, and I’m in Uni in England. This is really our grandparents place, but as they are hardly ever home, we crash here whenever we can. Come on Zak, lets get you kitted out….it’s a costume party….” Bree giggled, tugged yet again at his arm, and headed off in the direction of the staircase.

Thirty minutes later, Zak now wearing an expensive black silk shirt, fresh from the cellophane, and a very old and grand black velvet jacket, examined his reflection in the mirror. The clothes suited him, and he posed in front of the long glass, picking up different masks which Bree had piled on a small table whilst she had gone off to change. He heard a creak as he door opened behind him, and Cesare, in fitted leather trousers, laced up the sides, and a very flamboyant ruffled shirt, came up to him, his dark head appearing over Zak’s shoulder, grinning broadly.

“Man, you look good in that, it’s deffo your style.”

He pulled at the collar to sit flatter to Zak’s neck, and the older man felt a small shiver as Cesare’s long fingers grazed the skin on the back of his neck. “that’s better….this old stuff has been hanging about for years…but it’s all original….this shirt was made in the middle of the eighteenth century…” He pushed his flounced cuffs higher up his arms, revealing yet more of the dark blue ink. Zak was curious, but before he could speak, Cesare turned quickly, and walked over to the open window, pushing back the dusty drapes and leaning out into the evening air.

Zak followed, and Cesare stood back, showing off the view. It was amazing. Over the small courtyard at the back of the house the view of the village, sprawled against the rising ground of hillside, dotted with small jewel like points of light. The horizon merged with the now dark sky, where the stars mirrored the scene below. It was like a scene from a film set….Zak couldn’t help but breathe it all in, excited by the evening, and intrigued by the two beautiful cousins who had welcomed him so easily into their home.

The ancient oak door squeaked again, and Zak tried not to gasp as he caught sight of the beautiful woman who entered. Breeze had changed, the soft cream from earlier replaced by a midnight blue gown, its tight bodice showing more cleavage than was really decent, and her hair piled high in jewelled clasps, leaving random ringlets falling onto her bare shoulders. She crossed the floor and planted a small kiss on Zak’s cheek, then did the same to Cesare, her green eyes sparkling like the antique jewels trailing from her ears.  
“Come on then, you two, have you chosen your masks….I’m having this one, it was in Nonna’s wardrobe, so I’d better not lose it….”

She moved in front of the mirror, and hid her face behind the pale mask, which covered her eyes and nose, but left her generously curved mouth on view. The eyes in the mask were slanted upwards, black rimmed and enormous, lending her face an almost supernatural quality. She surveyed herself in the mirror, the silk of her dress rustling as she moved from side to side. Cesare crossed the room in two long strides, his hands covering her smooth white shoulders as he turned her to face the door.

“Bree, you are the vainest creature in the world….now get a fucking move on will you….”

He turned, a small smirk on his lips, and held out his arm to Zak. “Come on bro….time to party…”

Zak needed no more encouragement, slipping the mask he had chosen over his face, he followed the laughing pair down the stairs and out into the street.


	3. So when does the fun begin?

It was fully dark outside, streetlamps casting a seductive glow, the atmosphere charged with the excitement of the oncoming night. Zak noticed several interesting looking characters, some also in masks and costumes, as they made their way over the cobble stones, passing over a footbridge, where the coloured lanterns reflecting back from the water created a magical spectacle from the village. Cesare had his arm around Breeze, as her high shoes made walking on cobbles difficult, leaving Zak to follow close behind. Eventually, Cesare stopped by a tall wooden gate, set in a solid stone wall, and banged three times on the hatch, half hidden by the shadows. Zak felt a small quiver of excitement run through him. Despite his normal anxiety at social gatherings, wearing the mask, and the splendid old coat, made him feel disguised; his real self unseen. When the gate swung open, he linked arms with Cesare and Breeze, sweeping up the stairs, and entered into the ballroom of yet another of the vast old houses.

Zak blinked, the light strong after the dark streets. His first impression was that he had travelled back in time. Wood panelled walls, candle sconces, delicate furniture and silk upholstery all from a century long gone. People stood around, couples and small groups, all elegantly dressed, dark coloured costumes for the men, and jewel colours for the ladies, no white or pastel to be seen. The masks they wore, of varying degrees of ostentation, lent a surreal air to the scene. A harpsichord trilled from one corner of the room, and the huge silver tray of a liveried waiter moved expertly through the throng.

Cesare, his face now that of an Eagle, leaned into Zak’s ear, to establish the older man’s choice of drink. Zak, a little uncomfortably, asked for mineral water. He didn’t want to cloud his mind with too much alcohol this early, as it did seem that wine and champagne were the popular choice.

Cesare placed the order, his rapid Italian low and deep.

Drink comfortably in hand, Zak surveyed the scene. The weird music was becoming lost in the chatter, although the large room was not unduly crowded, and pleasantly cool. People moved around, many already acquainted, both men and women kissing cheeks and hugging. Breeze was working her way around the room, her hands kissed, warm embraces from some of them, as despite the masks they obviously knew one another well. He turned, meeting Cesare’s gaze, his amusement visible in the shining amber eyes behind the mask. 

“Don’t worry, Zak, it will get a whole lot more entertaining for sure. You fancy telling me a bit more about the stuff you do, I think I’ve seen it on the re runs, and it looked fascinating….we can head off where it’s a bit quieter….Bree will be ages……”his mouth twisted up into a rueful smile; ”they all love her….”

Zak wasn’t sure but it seemed that the younger guy was maybe a little bit jealous, but he let that thought slide.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Zak answered, leaving Cesare to guide him across the room, and onto a long covered walkway that ran around the outside of the building. Tables had been set up, although there were only a few people around. Cesare chose a small table in an alcove, and let himself flop gracefully into the chair, removing his mask and pushing a chair out for Zak at the same time.  
Zak also removed his mask, checking to make sure his hair had not been rearranged in the process. He looked away quickly, blushing slightly, when he realised that the handsome man lounging in the next chair, was smiling at him. This time Zak looked away with a sort of quiet panic growing in the pit of his stomach; what if Cesare was hitting on him? What if this was just a ploy to get him alone…?”

Cesare, seemingly reading his mind, began to chuckle, the warm friendly sound bringing Zak back from his speculations. Glancing at the source of the laughter, he saw Cesare’s head tilted towards him, still laughing, his eyes deep pools of darkness in the dim lighting.  
“Man….cease to panic…..I’m not out to get you……just interested in what you do…..I can’t help it if I’m so good looking every puff in Venice is after my arse!”

Zak laughed, letting out the tension in a rush, as Cesare pursed his lips and arched his eyebrows in a very camp pose. He couldn’t maintain it, and eventually they were both laughing together. As the evening wore on, more people came onto the veranda, but the two men stayed deep in conversation. Cesare drew Zak out of himself, and the older man found he was opening up about his interest in the spirit world to a willing audience; neither of them noticed that the time was passing, until Zak glanced at his watch.  
“Holy Fuck man….it’s almost 2:30, we’ve been here over two hours!” 

Cesare looked around, and got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head; giving Zak the opportunity to subtly admire his lean but strong physique. He took his disguarded mask from the table, and Zak saw a devilish gleam in his eye, before the Eagle’s head went back into place.

“Come on then Bro….this is when the fun starts……” his palm alighted on Zak’s broad shoulder, giving a small push in the direction of the house….”you did say you liked the supernatural……..?


	4. WELCOME TO THE CRYPT

The downward spiral seemed to have gone on forever, and Zak was feeling a little dizzy, as he followed Cesare down the multitude of cellars and staircases embedded in the old house. It was pretty gloomy, but his eyes, accustomed to dark places, together with Cesare’s small torch, made the descent possible without mishap. When Cesare had asked him if he was up for seeing something truly amazing, he didn’t hesitate, but now he was wondering if this was such a good idea. Without the back up of Nick and Aaron, or the cameras, he felt vulnerable in this strange and possibly - no definitely, haunted place.

Cesare stopped abruptly, the staircase, old and rickety only fit for one at a time. “Zak, you take the torch and go down first, I’ll follow”  
Although not used to being given orders, Zak preferred the option of taking the torch, and shone it on the wooden steps below his feet. They appeared to be made from old packing cases, or chests, once containing tea, but very decrepit, with letters printed in places in an old fashioned script. He moved slowly, grasping the frayed rope hung to the wall, in lieu of a handrail, feeling a greasy sort of tar transfer onto his palms. It was deathly cold down here, and he was glad of the old coat he was wearing. One careful step at a time, his legs bent as if that would save him if the treads gave way, he eventually found himself standing on the dirt floor. 

Here laid the very foundations of the house, which were maybe four hundred years old. Despite the gloom, Zak tried to see around him, marvelling at the wooden beams holding up the building, still functional after four centuries. He was cold and uncomfortable, sure he could hear rats scampering, but he was loving every minute of it. He jumped slightly when a familiar touch landed on the back of his neck. 

“OK man, quiet as you can. And remember where we go. If anything goes wrong, you need to be able to get back up these stairs. There is no other way out.” Zak swallowed, that sounded ominous.

He felt Cesare slide past him, taking the torch from his hand, and covering it so only the faintest glimmer showed on the floor. He moved forward, and Zak followed closely, intent on being able to see the light shining dimly from between Cesare’s clenched fingers. They travelled forward, the frigid air still around them. Zak became aware of a very oppressive feeling, growing worse as they approached a large opening, an archway in the wall, showing roughly ahead. Cesare was headed towards it, his breathing shallow in the silence. Zak gripped his arm, bringing him to a stop, his voice a ragged whisper.

“Cesare, I have a very bad feeling about this….there’s something really, well, evil, down here….maybe we need not to disturb it…..?”  
Zak saw a frown appear on Cesare’s face, despite the darkness.

“Come on man…I’ve been here before…..if you leave them alone they won’t hurt you…..”

“Leave who alone….?”

Cesare didn’t answer, but took a few steps further, ducking his head at the approach to the archway, giving Zak no alternative but to follow, or to be left in the pitch black. Zak felt his heart hammer roughly at his ribcage, as his companion disappeared, taking the light with him. Despite his anxiety, Zak followed, finding the arched entrance extended for a few feet, and then opened out. He didn’t know how large the opening was, as Cesare still had his hand wrapped around the torch, but he could make out two shelves, almost waist height, at either side of him, continuing along until they were lost in the blackness. Cesare whispered in his ear, making him jump.  
“Welcome to the crypt, dude……”

Zak looked to where Cesare held the torch, allowing a small glimmer to escape. What he saw made him freeze, the terror running along his body like chilled water. The dim light shone on what appeared to be a very old coffin, its wooden lid pushed off and down to the side, leaving tattered shreds of woven material, dark and almost decayed, clinging to the edges. The light scarcely penetrated the gloom, but Zak could make out a pale oval of a face, with long grey strands of hair draped over the dome of the skull. The skin was wrinkled like a very old apple, the features appearing flat and distorted, large uneven teeth protruded where the lips had fallen away. The old corpse had a mangled linen neckpiece, and what appeared to be an old frock coat, unclear in the movement of the dim beams from the torch.

Almost paralysed, Zak looked up into the deep eyes of his companion, seeing for the first time a glimmer of fear, despite the excitement. Grasping his arm, Cesare pulled him back from the coffin, drawing him over to see the horror lurking on the other side of the dank crypt. This coffin lid still held the silk adornment, draped over the inner surface, which continued down into the sides of the casket. A very ornate pattern, once pleated and opulent, now grimed and dull in the small beams of the torch. Both men peered into the depth, where the body of what was once a young and beautiful woman was laid.

Her head was swathed in a silk scarf, still showing some of its original richness. The face of the corpse was smooth and unmarked, the skin pale and waxy, long dusty black eyelashes resting gently, her mouth closed and expressionless. The folded drapes of her shroud covered everything from her neck downwards, the light hardly penetrating as far as her feet, which were tucked down inside the depths of the coffin. Zak was deeply disturbed by this creature, there was something sad and wrong about gawping at the remains, even though they could have been dead for centuries. He ducked his head, and whetted his lips, about to make his excuses and leave, when a small creak came from the dark end of the crypt.

“What the fuck……?” his voice, just a breath at the side of Cesare’s ear.

“Dunno man….they were asleep last time…….” Cesare seemed calm, despite the small wobbles of the light from the torch. They froze, as the noise of movement, and heavy boots hitting the dirt floor, echoed from the dark walls.

“Let’s go….” Zak didn’t intend to wait about to find out what was making the noises, it was one of the creepiest places her had ever seen, and his interest in the paranormal was not enhanced by corpses, however strange they looked. He turned away from the coffin, his heart beating loud, expecting to retrace his steps back to the slatted wooden staircase. The tall Ghost Hunter stopped in his tracks; his path was blocked by something very large, and very dead.


	5. NO ESCAPE

As there was no longer any advantage in the darkness, Cesare shone the beam of his torch directly at the creature barring Zak’s way, revealing a huge figure in dusty black, it’s long hair falling in stringy clumps over the collar of the antiquated cape it was wearing. Zak took a step back, his stare fixed on the face of the terror facing him, noticing the unearthly pale complexion, it’s eyes deep black and sunken, and it’s long yellow teeth bared in what may have been a smile.

Despite his many supernatural encounters, he was unprepared for the abject fear chilling him to the very pit of his stomach. He felt rooted to the spot, his legs quivering but unable to move. It was only when Cesare pushed him violently to the side, he was released from the hypnotically evil glare of the creature. The younger man had shouldered a long wooden pole, part of the crypt decoration, intending to use it as a weapon. Zak scrabbled backwards, picking up the feeble torch which had been dropped on the floor. 

Despite Cesare’s best efforts, the tall creature evaded the jabs of the makeshift spear, his bulk barring the exit through the archway. The torch was dim; Zak could make out Cesare’s desperate features in the gloom, while his hands searched the dusty ledge for something with which to arm himself. Thoughts of bloodsucking vampires whirled in his head, and his whole body trembled as his mind rebelled at the unreality of the situation.

It would soon be pitch black, and both of them were only too aware that that would be the end.

Cesare risked a look back over his shoulder,

“Sorry Zak, this wasn’t meant to happen…” His voice rasped.

“Come on, let’s rush him, if he gets us…….” There was no need to finish the sentence, both young men at their limits of fear.  
As one, they pushed toward the black figure, and succeeded in knocking it back against the arch. Then Cesare tried to punch it in the face, whilst Zak, hating to touch it, felt his knuckles connect with a bony ribcage. The creature lashed out, knocking Zak to the floor, an inhuman strength behind the blow. Snarling and twisting, the vampire brought up a hand to grasp Cesare by the neck, lifting him up from the floor. Its head dropped back slightly, the open mouth displaying yellow fangs inches away from Cesare’s throat. 

“Holy Jesus, please help us”

Zak’s deep voice was barely a whisper, knowing that after Cesare, he would be next.

A violent sickly ripping sound accompanied the sudden release of the wizened claws around Cesare’s throat. Zak had to move quickly to avoid being crushed under it as the terrible parody of life slumped to the ground, a rough stake, presumably taken from the stairs, protruding from its ribs. Cesare backed up against Zak’s body, trembling with shock. They could both see the flickering candlelight beyond the archway, although neither man could make any sense of what had just happened.

It was only when they saw a slim arm, holding a candelabra with three smoking candles, they realised that it was Breeze. Neither of the men looked behind them as they followed the tall figure in the dark silk gown to the slatted wooden steps. Zak was ahead of Cesare, his foot missing the first step in his haste, collecting several splinters in his hand as a result. None of them spoke until they were back at the large doors on ground level, through which they had entered several hours previously. Cesare turned, his face gaunt but smiling,

“I think we’ll give the rest of the party a miss guys, what d’ya think?”

“Too right” was all Zak could say, pushing open the door and taking a deep breath of the coolness of the night.


	6. RECOVERY

Breeze had lighted the lamps, leaving the two men to slump in the oversize leather chairs; Cesare kicked off his shoes and sat back with a sigh. 

“What the fuck were they…..no, don’t tell me, I’d rather not know…..” Zak’s voice was drained, the fear induced adrenaline fading fast, leaving him with a horrible feeling of anxiety.

“Here, take this, it will help” Bree’s calming voice was low and musical as she passed out small tumblers brimming with clear yellow liquid to both the shaken men. She also swallowed a small measure, smiling as the liquid burned its way down. She looked at Zak, he was leaning down, his head slumped, the glass held weakly in his long fingers. Bree moved over, sitting on the wide arm of his chair, gently easing herself to curl her arm around his shoulder, encouraging him to drink.

He drained the glass, the strong liquor both relaxing and stimulating. Turning his head to look up to Breeze, he smiled in a slightly off kilter way,

“How did you know where to find us?” he asked.

“I knew that Cesare wouldn’t be able to resist taking you there, after all it’s not every day you get to visit the living dead.” She smiled coyly, and stood to refill both men’s glasses, returning to sit close to Zak, leaving the bottle on the table.

“But Breeze, how did you know where they were?” Cesare’s voice was low and concerned. 

“Silly, I went there with Marie-Amelie when we were twelve, but never went back. Her family are direct descendants of the Old Ones.”  
“So how did you manage to get away without being caught, that fucking thing nearly killed Zak and me……?”

“Oh Cesare, use your common sense……I went in the daytime….”

Cesare stared at his cousin, incredulously; an explosive burst of laughter followed, as he registered the deadpan look on her face. Zak began to giggle, sliding Bree from the chair arm and onto his lap, needing to feel the comfort of another living being close to him. His hand stroked her thigh, then winced as the splinters in his palm sent out sharp prickles of pain. Cesare picked up the lamp and sat on the opposite side of Bree. Without ceremony, he took hold of Zak’s hand and turned it to the light, seeing a line of angry red puncture marks on Zak’s skin. 

“These splinters could turn nasty; the stuff down there is ages old and god alone knows what has shit on it, I need to get them out.”  
Zak nodded, the effects of the alcohol working to anesthetise his earlier anxiety. So much so that when Cesare took his hand, and begun searching for splinters, he didn’t feel any pain. Even when Cesare’s teeth worked their way over his hand, finding the tiny shards of wood and working quickly to extract them; followed by soft licks from Cesare’s tongue, tickling and soothing at the same time, Zak was perfectly comfortable.

Bree noticed Zak was flagging, his eyelids fluttering over the cloudy blue eyes. She stood, and both she and Cesare half carried Zak between them, to the bedroom further down the corridor. Bree held a candle as Cesare pulled off Zak’s clothes, rolling him into the centre of the soft feather mattress. He was muttering, and uneasy at being left alone, as despite the alcohol, the shock of what had happened was still making him jittery. 

Bree set the candle on the small table, and turned to Cesare, a devilish smile on her beautiful face. Her cousin guessed her intent, and quickly and easily pulled down her dusty silk dress, unlacing the corset she wore under it to leave her clad only in a small pair of black panties. She lifted the covers and wrapped herself around Zak, pulling his head down to rest under her chin, feeling his strong arms wrap around her warmth. 

Cesare followed, taking off the clothes he wore and throwing them in an untidy heap over the end of the bed, to slide in at the other side of Zak, his arm over the broad shoulders, and his lips nuzzling against Zak’s hairline. He caught sight of Breeze, her sparkling green eyes reflecting the candle light, as she turned her head to blow out the candle, leaving the three of them in the quiet gloom.

Zak was dozing fitfully, not able to sleep, but not fully awake. Even the small amount of alcohol he had drunk was enough to fuel his restlessness. He was aware that Bree was holding him, he could feel the curves of her body pushed into him, as her arms cradled his head. But he could also feel another body, leaner, harder and determined, a firm hold over his shoulder, and breath tickling the back of his neck. He ignored his confusion, concentrating on the softness of Bree’s body, leaning into him. He lifted his head, close enough to have her lips graze his forehead. She carried on moving, allowing her mouth the sensations of kissing his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, and finally pressing onto his slightly parted lips. He returned the kiss, finding the combination of lips and tongue worked magic, deepening his pulse and sending delicious shivers of arousal over his body.

The other mouth; another warm and gentle tongue, lapped over his neck, centering on the blue ink wingtips, blowing a cool breath over warm skin, pulling a deep hum of arousal from the man kissing his cousin. Cesare worked his hand in between the warm bodies, feeling the softness of a female breast, a hard nipple over which he rolled his thumb, travelling down slowly to caress a whole area of muscle over Zak’s powerful thigh. Cesare’s hand continued, slowly stroking, his fingertips gently stirring the smooth skin into shivers and goose-bumps.

Zak had lost any intention, if indeed it was ever there, to resist what was happening. He focussed his attention on the sensations of arousal, lust and passion, as the two beautiful creatures made love to him. Cesare was still behind him, a situation which Zak found to be both pleasing and arousing, he could enjoy the touches of the long fingered hands exploring his body, without actually having to acknowledge the truth of the situation. Those hands, which were now stroking his back, and his curved buttocks, slipping down intentionally to cradle his balls. Bree’s mouth had travelled south, lapping over his stomach, resting teasingly above his belly button, breathing lightly on the end of his cock, as his breath quickened.

As some unknown instinct moved through them, Bree took Zak in her mouth, as Cesare’s hand wrapped around his shaft, the pair moving slowly in synchronisation. Zak, firmly held by Cesare’s arms, was feeling an extreme form of sexual arousal, causing his body to tremble, and hot jolts of lust to circle in his groin. He had no other thought in his mind than the sensation, like a never ending orgasm, rippling through him. When he did come, it was like a bolt of lightening, the spasms so strong he almost doubled up, his breath sobbing out uncontrollably.

He felt himself being gently turned on his side, as his hair was stroked, and his face kissed. The last thing he heard before dropping into a deep and healing sleep, was of a couple, making love quietly but with evident enjoyment, climaxing at the other side of the mattress.


	7. …….STAYS IN VENICE

His eyes opened, and he took in the gloomy bedroom; the high drapes over the window billowing in the slight draft. This was not his hotel room. He sat up, looking around him, expecting to see at least one other occupant in the bed. It was empty save from himself. Zak slid his feet to the floor, noticing a pile of his clothes on the bedside table. He didn’t stop for a shower, he needed to get back to normality.

Pushing his fingers through his hair, fully dressed, he walked down the dim hallway, the old boards creaking under his feet, and back into the room he had sat in last night. The drapes were open, and a pot of coffee and bread rolls were on the rickety table, smelling delicious. A small folded note rested against the silver coffee pot, sunlight bathing everything in a homely glow.

Zak picked up the note, and struggled to read the looped handwriting

“Hi Zak, 

 

We’ve gone back to find my mask, I left it behind last night.

 

Hope you had a good time, and will catch up with us again soon; we really enjoyed your company.

 

XXX

 

Gabriella Breeze “

There followed a sentence in Italian, also followed by XX’s, which must have been Cesare’s offering.

Zak pushed the note in his pocket, a slight blush colouring his cheeks. He put the hat over his flattened hair, and walked quickly out of the room, down the dusty staircase and out onto the street, where, turning in the direction of his hotel, his tall figure was quickly lost in the crowd.


End file.
